


Dynamics

by kronette



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gun Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 01:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10232540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: Will holds a gun on Hannibal. Hannibal doesn't mind because they both know what it means.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a thing. I came home, sat down and wrote this without a thought in my head. That doesn't happen often, but when it does, I'm so very grateful. 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://kronette.tumblr.com/) and [dreamwidth](https://kronette.dreamwidth.org/)

Will stood in the doorway, watching. He knew Hannibal was aware of his presence; there was never a time when Hannibal was not aware of Will’s presence. 

The last dinner plate was wiped and put away, then Hannibal draped the damp towel over the range handle. Pirouetting in an elegant arc, Hannibal faced him, eyes immediately locking onto Will’s. 

Hannibal’s face was placid as always, showing no concern for the gun in Will’s hand or the gunpowder dusting Will’s hand from its recent firing. The slightest lift of Hannibal’s chin and the nearly imperceptible twitch of his eyebrow had Will slowly raising the gun to point at Hannibal’s chest.

“Come here,” he ordered quietly, the smooth and steady cadence of Will’s voice traveling across the silent void between them. 

Hannibal’s footsteps were faint against the lacquered oak as he drew near, only stopping when the gun indented the fine woolen sweater covering his chest. 

With practiced ease and a deliberate show, Will clicked off the safety. “Kneel,” he stated in the same authoritative tone that expected immediate obedience. 

Hannibal did not disappoint. Maintaining eye contact, face giving nothing away, Hannibal crouched onto his left knee, then drew back his right leg, settling himself as comfortably as he could on the hardwood floor. The gun followed Hannibal down, hovering just outside his peripheral vision near his cheek. 

Will nudged Hannibal’s cheek with the cylinder, letting him feel the residual heat from the firing in the barrel. Not softening his tone or his stance, Will pressed the gun into Hannibal’s skin. “Get me off.” 

Expression unwavering, Hannibal leant forward to undo the belt buckle and strip the belt from Will’s pants loops. 

As Hannibal held the leather in his hand, about to casually discard it onto the floor, a sound of need caught in Will’s throat. The unsteady note in his voice betrayed him as Will demanded, “Drape it over your shoulders.” 

The challenging light in Hannibal’s eyes said that he knew the command to be off the script Will had devised before leaving immediately after dinner and taking aim at an innocent tree behind their house. 

The belt was carefully settled against the back of Hannibal’s neck, the two strips of leather hanging down his chest cutting him into thirds. 

Steeling himself against the onslaught of emotion that always overwhelmed him, Will indicated that Hannibal should continue with a tilt of his head. 

Complying now with the smallest of smirks, Hannibal pushed Will’s pants and underwear down to his ankles. Hobbled as effectively as Hannibal choosing to humble himself at Will’s feet, Will dragged the barrel of the gun down the side of Hannibal’s neck. “Make it last.” 

At the first touch of warm fingers to his shaft, the breath shuddered unevenly out of Will but the gun never wavered from its place against Hannibal’s cheek. 

As with everything that Hannibal elected to do, he threw himself into pleasing Will with a vengeance and singular focus, suction and pressure at the very edge of too much. To see that proper, eloquent mouth stretched around the head of his cock, to see the fastidiously clean face smeared with saliva, splintered something inside Will and he clenched his hand around the grip of the gun to ground him. 

It was much, much too soon to give Hannibal his reward, but Will was feeling the strain in his lower back and his jumping abdomen muscles. He was panting now, mouth open and breathing ragged as Hannibal stroked down his trembling thighs at the same time his cock was swallowed. Will’s fist settled on Hannibal’s shoulder to steady himself, but he held back the moan, just barely keeping himself in check. He gripped the back of Hannibal’s hair and pushed him in closer, allowing a small sigh as he felt the tightness around his cock and Hannibal’s cold nose against his skin. 

He counted one—two swallows, gasping at each one before he allowed Hannibal to pull off of him. A string of saliva connected Hannibal’s mouth to his cock and the moan escaped without warning or permission. 

The reactionary flare of heat in Hannibal’s gaze fueled his own and Will only had to apply the slightest of pressure to the back of Hannibal’s skull before he was sucked down again. He pressed forward as he felt Hannibal’s hands on his ass, trapping his cock inside the unrelenting heat and wetness. 

Skin too tight, body bowed over Hannibal knelt in supplication at his feet, Will let the gun clatter to the floor. He gripped Hannibal’s shoulders and thrust himself down that willing throat, groaning at the intense release that ravaged him. 

His wrists were held in vice-like grips as Hannibal coughed, drawing in lungfuls of unsteady air before dropping to his hands and knees, head sagging between his shoulders. 

Awkwardly, Will sank to his knees, pants still wrapped around his ankles. He rested his hand between Hannibal’s shoulder blades, rubbing in slow circles until the coughing subsided. He waited until he felt tension beneath his hand and Hannibal’s head came up even with the rest of his body before drawing Hannibal back up to a kneeling position.

Face to face, Will drank in the tear tracks that lined Hannibal’s cheeks; the mix of spit and come that decorated his mouth and chin forever damaging the image of the meticulous, well-groomed man.

Before Will knelt a product of pure lust; the giving over of control to satisfy a lover’s desire, so complete in his submission that fresh tears continued down Hannibal’s cheeks in contrast to the tremulous smile. 

“Come here,” Will said, his voice now soft and giving. Hannibal did not fall into his arms, but instead bent to rest his head against Will’s chest, awaiting the arms that encircled his shoulders. 

Will’s hands rubbed along Hannibal’s shoulders and traced down his spine, feeling the coil of tension in every muscle. Even without being told, Hannibal had not let himself go, always preferring Will’s touch to send him over the precipice. 

He urged Hannibal upright, sealing his mouth over Hannibal’s in a savage kiss. Hands quickly exposed Hannibal to the air before Will gripped the full cock and stroked in time to his pounding heart. 

Their kiss was broken every few seconds by Hannibal’s gasps, driving Will to twist and pull with even greater urgency, knowing just how far he had to push before Hannibal broke. 

The broken sound, when it came, echoed in Will’s chest as Hannibal spilled over his hand, body shaking with the force of his release. 

Will held onto him, waiting for Hannibal’s hands to grip his shoulders before shifting back to meet Hannibal’s dominating kiss. Will felt like he’d been swallowed whole again, and this time, it was he who surrendered to the onslaught. 

The End


End file.
